


Shadowblade Frie

by dont_lookat_me



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: Alcohol, F/F, Smoking, Swearing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-09 06:48:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27189583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dont_lookat_me/pseuds/dont_lookat_me
Summary: "Shadowblade Sylleda Frie, at your service." the girl dropped into a low bow. The dragon she was stood in front of gave a snort of derision and folded his arms over his chest."Tell me, rogue, why you think you're worthy to stand in my presence."She rose from her bow and reached into one of the packs at her side. "Oh, no reason." she had a chain dangling between her fingers. "I just know how much you love deals; I've got something I just know you'll want back, and you've got something I want in return."----Sylleda Frie was known best for her chaotic-at-best behaviour, strange sense of humour, and perhaps most of all; her incredibly sticky fingers. A quick-witted, well-trained rogue at the best of times, and a dirty thief at others, an adventure with the only daughter of the Frie family was exactly that.
Kudos: 4





	1. How Could You

**Author's Note:**

> Hi everyone, welcome to my OC drabbles! The main character and narrator of these will always be my rogue, Sylleda, unless otherwise stated! Any lore mistakes are completely unintentional, but please do feel free to point them out. Most of the characters WILL be my own OCs with the exception of a few lines from canon characters for the purpose of the storyline. 
> 
> Without further ado, let's hope posting this from my phone works, and enjoy!!

The hot summer air that had settled over Stormwind was suffocating. Sylleda had long since removed the bandana that typically covered her face and stuffed it into her backpack in the hopes that it might help her breathe. To the young rogue's dismay, she'd had no such success. 

Finally, she reached the entrance to Stormwind Keep. She'd never been up to the Keep herself, at least not that she could recall. Perhaps as a child she'd ventured into the Keep by accident playing a game with other children - it sounded like something she would have done - but her venture this day was far less light-hearted. 

She started up the stairway that led into the Keep with a hardened expression. The woman was begging herself to maintain her resolve, her rage. In the back of her mind she could hear Wren's warning, him begging her not to go through with this - that she could be execured for such behaviour - but the rogue told herself she didn't fear the king. She never had, and she certainly wasn't about to start. 

As such, she didn't dare look back. Climbing those steps was exhausting, she'd admit, but her physical tiring was nothing in comparison to the emotional exhaustion she had sitting in her heart. At the top of the stairs, the woman stared at the elevated walkway that led into the throne room. She stepped one foot onto the walkway when the sound of a voice - unmistakably belonging to Wren - behind her. 

"Sylleda! Sylleda Frie don't you dare set another foot inside that Keep!" the young man, her friend, bellowed. She grit her teeth and clenched her hands into fists. 

"You're not going to stop me, Wren." she growled, rolling her shoulders back and continuing inside. The young woman kept her chin up and shoulders back as she wandered up the walkway and into the throne room, doing her best to ignore the sound of Wren's footfalls behind her. 

She stopped at the far end of the throne room, staring down the High King, seated in his throne before her. The man seemed to pay the woman little attention, though she was quick to take notice of the flash of curiosity on his face when he laid eyes on her. 

"King Varian Wrynn of Stormwind." the small woman looked the king over several times. A hand on her shoulder broke the woman's staredown with the king, drawing her eyes up and behind her to look at the surprisingly pale complexion of Wren. 

"My apologies, my king, I don't know what's gotten into her. Please, forgive my friend, she's not herself these days. I'll be-" the king rose a hand to silence the rambling young man, which drew Sylleda's attention back to the man she'd come to see. 

"Let her speak." the king commanded, his tone level despite his voice booming through the throne room. 

The young rogue shook her friend off her shoulder and narrowed her eyes at the king. "You've _some nerve_ coming back here after everything that's happened. Have you paid no mind to the people starving - _dying_ in Westfall because of you? To the havoc the Defias have wrought on Westfall, on Redridge, on Elwynn itself? _Your people_ are starving to death out there, High King." she hissed his title through her grit teeth. "And yet still you have the gall to bring death knights into your city? _How dare you?_ " 

"Syll, please... please stop before you-" Wren didn't finish his thought before Sylleda had spun on her heel and slapped the man across the face. 

"And how dare _you_ try to tell me what to do?." 

Within seconds the guards were closing in on her, prompting the woman to reach for her daggers. She turned back to the king, watching in her peripheral vision as the royal guards approached her. In the blink of an eye, Wren grabbed the woman's arms and pulled her back. He gripped her to tightly it seemed he felt their lives depended on it. 

"And you, rogue, have a lot of nerve to come in here and think you've got any place questioning your king." one of the guards spoke up as they drew closer. 

"Are you afraid, Wrynn?" she snickered, spitting on the floor at the king's feet. "Speak up!" the rogue shouted, fighting as hard as she could to break free of Wren's hold on her. She'd rather be killed right there in the hold than thrown in the Stockade to rot with a bunch of filthy Defias, and she had a sinking feeling that if she didn't somehow get free that would be _exactly_ what was coming her way. 

"Take her to the Stockade. The boy as well." the king finally spoke. He seemed almost bored by the woman's fury. As though he'd heard it a million times before. 

"Just kill me here. I'm not going to rot in the Stockades." she growled, still writhing to escape Wren's grasp. 

"Don't listen to her! Please!" Wren's voice cracked as he called out to the guards. Something about the young man's tone struck a nerve in Sylleda's heart, causing her squirming to grind to a halt. 

"Let me go, Wren. I'll go with them, I won't fight." her tone turned somber, eyes flickered to the stone floor beneath her feet. They stayed there for only a moment before the small woman turned her face back up to stare into the eyes of the king. "But please, let him go. He only came to stop me, Wren had no part in this. I swear to you, I'll go quietly but let him go. He's all I have left." 

"Afraid that's not an option." the guard answered in the king's place. They grabbed Wren by the wrists and wrestled the rogues out of the Keep and through Stormwind to the Stockades. 

When the reached the prison, the pair were stripped of their weapons and armour and tossed into a cell with another man. He wore a mask on his face, but his mismatched green and brown eyes told Sylleda she knew him. 

"Sylleda? Wren?" the man's brows were knit together tightly with confusion. 

"Valerian." the two rogues spoke in unison. 

Once upon a time, the three had been friends. All of that changed, however when he left Sentinal hill to join the Defias in Moonbrook and Sylleda and Wren took off to Stormwind seeking out SI:7. Still, Syll found herself surprised that he'd been caught, rather than killed. 

"I wasn't expecting to be seeing you again any time soon." his tone was cocky and smug, forcing Sylleda to close her eyes in an attempt not to roll them. 

"Neither were we." Wren frowned, folding his arms across his chest. "I'm surprised you didn't get yourself killed."

"I could say the same for you, Wren. Or is little Syll over there still your bodyguard after all this time?" 

"He's more than able to fend for himself." Sylleda snapped. She rested her hands on her hips and glared up at the man she'd once called her friend. "And it's my fault we're here at all. So, do with that what you will." she turned on her heel and stalked further into the cell to get away from him. Valerian didn't follow her. He seemed to be perfectly content to ignore both her and Wren - who was near the door to the cell, watching through it.

The guilt of the situation sat heavy in her chest, her eyes threatening to well up with tears. Ones she didn't intend to let spill. If she was stuck there, she'd do damned well to play the part of a hardened criminal. 

_She was going to get out of there. Somehow. Someday._ She just had to figure out how. 


	2. Why are You Here?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sylleda receives an... unexpected visitor in the Stormwind Stockades.

It had been years since Sylleda had seen... well, anyone. She'd been moved into a private cell about three years back after she'd gotten angry with Valerian and bitten two of his fingers off. As far as she was concerned, he'd deserved it, but the guards weren't so understanding. So, ever since then she'd sat alone in her own cell and stewed in her own thoughts.

She'd tried to escape a number of times. Three or four at least. The plan had changed but there were a few essentials; get a utensil, break the lock, grab Wren, and run. On her first try, she'd managed to snag an actual key, get Wren and get most of the way out but that stubborn son of a bitch insisted he get his axe, Havoc's Call and it had gotten them caught. She didn't necessarily blame him, as she had been hard-pressed to even _think_ of leaving Lungbreaker and Heaven's Fall. The fact remained, however, that his attachment to the weapon had cost them their escape. 

The sound of footsteps coming down her hallway drew her attention. She approached the cell door slowly, placing her feet carefully as she drew closer, making sure not to make a sound. Through a crack in the slider, she saw a hauntingly familiar face. Mathias Shaw. The sight of his face put a sick feeling in her stomach. If Shaw had come down here, there was no way it was good news.

But she did figure it didn't mean he'd come to kill her. Surely if she was being put to death they'd send someone a little more... _fit for the job._

She let out a silent, heavy breath and slinked back to her sad excuse for a bed and sat herself down. The woman wanted to pretend to be busying herself with something, but there was nothing in the room with which she could do so. Instead, she simply leaned back against the wall, crossed one leg over the other and folded her hands in her lap, staring dead-on at the door. 

In the excruciating few minutes before Shaw opened the door, Sylleda found herself contemplating any and all of the reasons she could imagine he'd be coming to see her - none of them good. Finally, the door swung open. Mathias Shaw, her former Spymaster, stood in the doorway. His expression was grim, angry, defeated. Confused, the woman rose an arched brow at him, though her expression remained otherwise unreadable.

"Spymaster Shaw, what an... interesting surprise." she remarked, weakly attempting to feign surprise.

"Sylleda Frie," the Spymaster kept his bright green eyes trained on the rogue in front of him with an unnerving intensity.

"It's been a while, how've you been keeping? Sure the King's got you busy as ever." her platitudes were nothing more than thinly veiled sarcasm. She couldn't have possibly cared less about what Varian had been up to. He could be dead for all Sylleda cared.

"King Wrynn is dead, Sylleda." Shaw huffed a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. "The Alliance is under Anduin's rule now."

"Oh, how pleasant. You've come all the way here to let me know the witch is dead? I'm flattered." she hummed a bit, trying to suppress a grin.

It wasn't that she'd had it out for Varian. She'd _had it out_ for Varian.

The Spymaster groaned and rubbed under his eyes before straightening out and folding his arms across his chest. "No, and I'm disappointed in your seeming lack of ability to be civil about a man who died defending us from the Burning Legion."

_The Burning Legion?_

"The Legion? Oh for Light's sake Shaw _start with that!_ " she hissed. The woman crossed her arms and frowned. "So, what then? What does the return of the Legion have to do with me?"

"It's not looking good for us, Sylleda. I need you out there." Shaw sounded grim and remorseful, as though he truly regretted that he was making such a request of her. "You're one of my best rogues and you're valuable. Almost as much a liability as an asset, but still an asset."

"Take Wren," she started. "He should've never wound up here in the first place. He didn't do anything wrong. Besides, if I'm such a liability, Wren's your better option anyway." she drummed her fingers on her bicep while she waited for Shaw to respond.

"Wren's a good rogue and a smart man, but this situation calls for you, Sylleda. I'm not giving you a choice." the Spymaster's tone was firm, "You're coming with me."

Sylleda's eyes fluttered closed and she drew in a deep breath. She wanted to say no. She _desperately_ wanted to say no. _You_ _'re more good_ _out there_ _than you are in here. For Wren and for Azeroth._ Her exhale was heavy, frustrated. With a curt nod, she looked up at Shaw. "Okay. Let's go then."

Shaw turned on his heel and led the woman back out of the Stockades. She held her chin high and kept her eyes focused straight ahead. There was no way she was looking at any of these thugs.

Once she'd been led into the main tower again, the Spymaster took his leave and instructed the rogue to go to the mage tower once she'd gathered her things. When the guards grudgingly passed the woman her possessions, she frowned, noticing almost immediately that Lungbreaker had a chip in it. "Were you assholes swinging this into the stone? Light's sake." she muttered, sliding into her old armour that - to her surprise - still fit like a glove. She grabbed her weapons and bags, gave the guards another scowl and trudged off to the mage tower.

She sauntered through the portal Shaw had told her to take and found herself in an incredibly foreign place. Shaw had told her she was going to Dalaran, and this place most certainly was _not_ Dalaran. Groaning loudly - mainly to herself, despite the several people whose heads turned to raise curious brows in her direction in response - the woman sauntered over to the nearest person to ask for directions.

The nearest person, however, appeared to be a ghost. He was a nobly dressed night elf who stood with far better posture than the Teldrasil night elves she'd become most familiar with. Shrugging, figuring she had nothing to lose by asking him where she was, the young rogue approached the man. "Good morning, I... seem to be lost. Could you tell me where I am?"

"You're in Aszuna, traveller. Where are you headed?"

"I'm trying to get to Dalaran City." the rogue tried to smile, but the elf's formality made her uncomfortable. She looked around at her surroundings and came to the realization she was in a ruin. This place must have been a royal court of some variety before it collapsed. That assumption, of course, was drawn solely from the belief that the elf to whom she spoke was nobility.

"Ah, have you got a map?" the man asked. Sylleda nodded and drew her map from her bag, passing it to the man. "It's a challenge to see from here, but if you fly up this way, you should see the city by the time you pass over the Ruined Sanctum to the southeast."

With a nod and a smile, the rogue took back her map, tucked it away and bid the man farewell. Her uncle's compass clutched tightly in her hand, she mounted her gryphon, Trix, and took off toward the flying city. When she came down onto Krasus' Landing, a sigh of relief escaped her lips at her familiar surroundings. There, she took Trix to the hitching post and tied him up. She gently caressed the gryphon's face and grabbed him a treat from her bag before turning around to seek out Khadgar like she'd been told.

She'd barely stepped foot out of the walkway onto the Landing before she was grabbed.

Shortly thereafter she found herself in the Hall of Shadows. The people who dwelled down there were only partial strangers. Not people she knew well, but mainly familiar faces.


	3. My Dear Friend

After having been shipped off to Stormheim, Highmountain, Val'Shara, Aszuna, and the Broken Shores upon which High King Varian Wrynn himself was slain, Sylleda found herself shipped off to Argus. While she was more than happy to be taking the fight  _ right  _ to the Legion this time, she felt foreign and unwelcome aboard the Vindicaar.

Still, she worked hard to keep up with the mission of the Uncrowned, taking on her position as their leader and their Shadowblade. At every opportunity, the girl retreated to her friend Nimarra's quaint home in Ironforge, where she found herself resting better than she had in years.

Being at Nim's side again was comfortable. The hunter - now blind as a bat - was seated across from her, staring blankly at a schematic. "I don't know  _ how  _ you expect that staring at that schematic is going to make it legible." Sylleda had a cigarette between her lips and a glass of wine in one hand.

Once upon a time, Nimarra had the sharpest eye of anyone the rogue had met. She could bulls-eye a target from over one hundred yards away, and probably still could if she wore her damned goggles. Maybe even if she didn't. But a year or so ago in Draenor a witch had put a curse on her that caused her to lose her vision entirely, damning the woman to eternal darkness.

"Well I'd ask you to read it but that would be like the blind leading the blind, Frie." Nimarra scoffed, leaning back from her schematic. The girl  _ had  _ bionic lenses that allowed her to see, so why she so rarely wore them was beyond the rogue across the table.

Sylleda huffed and took a drag on her cigarette. "They can't possibly be  _ that  _ hard to read, Nim. I mean, come on. Besides, what is this even for?"

"It's a cranial canon." Nim leaned further back in her chair and kicked her bare feet up onto the table. "New plan I'm testing out." she tucked her arms behind her head and turned her chin up toward the ceiling.

Silence fell between the two women, reminding the rogue of all of the times they'd spent together exactly like this. Typically Sylleda was chattier, but she had yet to collect some real stories to tell, ones that Nimarra hadn't heard yet. They were together often, and by then she'd already been there for three days resting. While Syll was away, both in the Stockades and at the Broken Isles, Nimarra looked after her pirate crew.

Nim had been her first mate. Piracy was never something Wren had gotten invested in and his sea legs were wobbly at best. But Nim, Nim had spunk. The pair had met when Sylleda had gone off to join the Bloodsail Buccaneers at Stranglethorn. After months among their ranks taking orders from people the rogue had felt were her intellectual inferiors, she had grown quite close with Nimarra.

_ "Nim!" the rogue called across the cabin. The hunter, her superior, looked up from her engineering schematic, a chewing stick between her teeth. One of her dark eyebrows was arched up at the rogue, curious as to what she wanted. "Come here." _

_ Breathing a sigh, Nimarra set down her schematic and got up from where she was seated to approach the girl. Sylleda was significantly smaller than her friend - as she was with a lot of people - and had to get up on her tiptoes to whisper into Nim's ear. _

_ "I got my hands on the battle plans. We're a go." she spoke so quietly her words were almost unintelligible. Lowering herself back to the floor, Sylleda looked up to Nim expectantly. The hunter's expression was stoic for a moment before a grin crept across her scarred lips. _

_ "Perfect." she whispered. _

And the pair had gone on to seize a boat in the Booty Bay harbour with a stolen Bloodsail flag and make off onto the seas. The recruitment process for their pirate crew was slow, but with Sylleda - charming as she could be - at their helm, their crew was strong and a force to be reckoned with.

"Your buccaneers caught wind of you getting out, you know. I'd recommend you get it together and arrange a trip to Stranglethorn sooner, rather than later." Nim spoke finally, though she spoke quietly.

"Well then ready your flying machine, I'll call Trix and we'll set off for Stranglethorn." the rogue paid no mind to the time as she put out her cigarette in Nim's ashtray at the middle of the table.

"Go yourself, I'm exhausted. It must be well past midnight by now." Nimarra sat herself upright again and rubbed her neck.

A cheeky grin crept across the rogue’s face and she drummed her fingers on her chin. “You’re right, you’re an old lady. I shouldn’t expect you to come on such a long ride with me so late.” she said, making sure her tone sounded as mocking as she could muster. 

Nimarra wasn’t an old woman  _ per se  _ but she was old enough to be the rogue’s mother. At forty-six, she just simply wasn’t a young woman anymore. Still, despite the facts being abundantly clear, she loathed being called old. 

The hunter scoffed and folded her arms over her chest. “I know you’re just saying that to get me to come along” she got up from her seat and wandered deeper into the recesses of her home. “Not gonna work. This old girl’s exhausted.”

Sylleda dropped her hands to her sides and sighed. “You’re no fun, you know.” she rolled her eyes. Still, she grudgingly grabbed her pack off the floor and bid her friend goodnight. With or without company, she was off to Stranglethorn. At least for a day or two. 

She made her way out of the tiny home in the mountain and toward the gryphon roost at the centre of the city. There, she found Trix, still tied tightly to the roost, sound asleep. Gently the rogue reached over and pet the gryphon’s head, stirring her carefully from her sleep while she fished a treat from her bag to give the tired old girl. 

“You wanna go for a ride, girl?” Sylleda gave her companion a happy grin, which the creature seemed to delight in as she ruffled her feathers. “Let’s go.” she whispered, untying the gryphon from the roost. With her pack slung over her shoulder, Sylleda saddled the gryphon with expert speed and the two made their way out of the city in contented silence. 


	4. Day One

When Shaw told Sylleda she'd be taking one of the void elves back to Argus with her, she'd had to do everything she could not to drop to her knees and beg for someone else.

In front of her stood a petite woman with flowing, void-infused purple hair and glowing blue eyes. She had smooth, dark skin and wore a clean, white priestess' robe.  _ A priest,  _ she thought,  _ great. Way to assign me the biggest buzz-kill possible, Mathias. _

"Shadowblade, this is Admiri Sunsinger. She'll be joining you on Argus for the next few weeks." Shaw had one brow cocked slightly as he looked down his nose at Sylleda, who stood an easy foot shorter than him. He looked as though he expected her to say something stupid - which the young rogue could understand. Based on precedent, she did have a bit of notoriety for speaking out of turn and sharing unwanted opinions.

"This is because of the-"

"Yes, Sylleda it's because of the prison." the Spymaster interrupted her. "So, do be on your best behaviour and I expect you not to cause any trouble for Admiri."

The void elf at Shaw's side scoffed under her breath. Syll rolled her eyes and started out of SI:7 toward the Mage Quarter. "I doubt she'll be any trouble-"

"I wouldn't say that if I were you." she heard Shaw warn the priest. "She'll take it as a challenge."

A little grin crossed the young rogue's face as she continued out of the building. "Sunsinger!" she called from the doorway. "Let's go, I'd like to get back to Dalaran before nightfall and at the rate you're moving it'll take us until then to get to the Mage Quarter."

She swore she heard the young priest groan under her breath before bidding the Spymaster goodbye and joining the rogue in the doorway. Together, they began through the city and toward the Mage Quarter. Neither woman spoke as they entered the Tower and slipped through the portal to Dalaran. Once they were there, Sylleda banished the void elf to wait for her at Krasus' Landing before stopping in to her order hall to orchestrate a few things for her absence and grab a drink - well, about seven drinks.

Finally, she stumbled back to Krasus' Landing with the help of Tethys, a much more experienced drinker than she. "Alright voidey girl, you got your shit packed?" the rogue called out across the landing to the priest seated beside the translocator that would take them up to the Vindicaar. In her hands she held a small pendant that her glowing eyes seemed to bore into. She looked almost as if she were expecting the pendant to  _ do  _ something.

Tethys let the drunken woman off of his shoulder beside the translocater beside the tiny elf. "Hello? Earth to voidey girl? We got places to be."

"Why the hell would I want to go anywhere when you're this drunk? You need to get to an inn if you don't pass out in the middle of the road." the elf set the pendant into her bag and stood up. "And  _ never  _ call me voidey girl again." a scowl crinkled her delicate features and she waved Tethys away.

The pirate shrugged and nodded to his friend before taking off from the landing back toward the order hall. "Oh, come on. Tethys was the only person in this small vicinity worth talking to." Sylleda groaned, folding her arms over her chest. "This is gonna suck." she rolled her eyes.

The priest shook her head and grabbed Sylleda by her wrist, dragging her off of the landing and through the floating city to the Hero's Welcome. Once they were inside Sylleda quickly approached the bartender to request another drink, only to be rudely cut off by Admiri, who corrected her and requested water instead.

"The last thing you need is more alcohol. You smell like a tavern on your own." she huffed, taking the water from the barkeep, giving Inzi a quick nod and ushering the rogue to the upper level and into a room.

"Why are you so stuck up? Like, unfathomably stuck up." Sylleda took a sip of her water before wiggling her gloves and wrist guards off and setting them beside her on the corner table. "I get it, oh no I'm cursed with void magic, whatever will I do!" her tone turned mocking as she unfastened her mantle.

"I'm not answering that." Admiri sighed, setting her bag on the table beside the rogue's gloves and rummaging through it. "Just go to sleep."

"I think you missed the memo here, I'm supposed to babysit you. Not the other way around."

A sneer crossed Admiri's lips. "Oh, really? So then why, exactly, did I have to help you walk the whole way here because you can't handle your liquor?" as soon as the words left her lips she had a seemingly-regular frown across her face.

Sylleda was quiet for a moment. She shook her head and slid her boots off. "If you wanna babysit so bad I've got no problem letting you babysit. But I'm  _ pretty sure  _ Shaw told you that you shouldn't challenge me." she chuckled softly, placing her boots under the table.

Admiri didn't respond. She was back to staring at the pendant.

"So, are you going to keep wistfully staring at that pendant that looks like it'd go for a fine hundred gold or so, or does it do something?" the rogue unfastened her vest and laid it on the table, now seated comfortably in her undershirt. An old work shirt that had belonged to Wren when they were teenagers.

"Maybe we should just  _ not  _ talk." the priest huffed, looking up at Sylleda for a moment to scowl before returning her attention to the pendant.

The rogue rolled her eyes. "You can choose not to talk all you want, you don't have to answer me. I really don't care, I-"

"You're just grateful to have a sounding board. A wall that walks and talks that you can chatter at until your lips fall off." the priest didn't look up from her pendant. She turned it over in her hands gently, watching it still as if she expected it to do something.

"Sure, I guess. I'd try making conversation but you're arguably the most decidedly miserable person I've ever encountered. And I've run into Sylvanas Windrunner." Sylleda huffed, crossing one of her legs over the other and taking another sip of water.

"That's bold coming from easily the most poorly concealed loneliness I've ever encountered." Finally, she tucked the pendant back into the bag. "Clearly you're desperate for conversation."

"I am-"

"There's nothing wrong with being lonely, Sylleda." Admiri shook her head and stared out ahead of herself. "It's definitely not worth getting defensive over."

The rogue huffed and looked away from the elf beside her. She most certainly was  _ not  _ lonely. She was a rogue, a lone wolf. The alleged champion of the Alliance. She didn't need anyone.

"So, what? You've decided I'm lonely, you pity me and you're going to talk now?"

"Oh for the sake of the Light, no. I'm no more interested in talking to you than I was ten minutes ago." Admiri's tone sounded almost offended.

"Then what was the point of bringing up all that loneliness shit?"

The priestess shrugged. "Put you on the spot. I made the mistake of assuming I could shut you up if I flustered you."

A cheeky grin crossed Sylleda's lips before she spoke again. "So you underestimated me."

"It wasn't a compliment." her tone was dry. "If you're so intent on talking you might as well tell me a story I can fall asleep to."

"You've made a grave mistake assuming that I'm boring enough for you to sleep." the rogue pursed her lips. "But alright, what kind of story do you want to hear? When I killed Edwin Vancleef? When I helped bring down the Lich King Arthas Menethil? Wrath Gate? When we invaded the Black Temple? Or maybe the several times we took down Kael'Thas-"

"No, I'm not interested in hearing you brag about your accomplishments. Tell me... about the person you used to adventure with? They must've been something special to put up with you." the elf's eyes fluttered shut and she folded her hands together, resting them on her ribs.

The human was a bit taken aback by her request.  _ Why would she want to know that?  _ Subtly, she shook off her surprise and nodded. "Yeah, okay. His name is Wren. We grew up together in Westfall."

"You never struck me as a Westfall native."

"You've known me for, like, a day. But you're right, I'm not originally from Westfall. I moved there as a child to live with my uncle." the rogue shrugged. She'd long since made peace with her past, but she couldn't wrap her head around why in Light's name this pretentious elf would care about it.

"Moved from where?" Admiri's eyes didn't open, but one of her long eyebrows rose in curiosity.

"Lordaeron." Sylleda shifted to get more comfortable in her seat. She watched Admiri from the corner of her eye and was quick to notice her expression morph from a frown to one of surprise, although only for a moment. "I was born in Stratholme, lived there until I was about fourteen. I'd gone on a trip to Westfall to visit my cousins in Westfall when Arthas Menethil purged the city, my family inside. So, when we received word that the city was purged, I stayed in Westfall with my uncle and his kids.

I met Wren there. He was just a vagrant, his parents had been killed by Defias so it was just him. I'd run into him trying to steal some grain from my uncle. Back in Lordaeron I was usually in trouble for having...  _ sticky fingers  _ so when I noticed him I watched. He did an awful job, so when I came out of hiding I decided to give him some pointers.

We spent the rest of that year together. I taught him what I knew, and on my sixteenth birthday he looked at me and asked if I'd run away to Stormwind with him, we could go to SI:seven together and become real rogues. I thought that was a great idea, so I left a note for my uncle and some gold I'd stolen from the guards and off we went.

Shaw wasn't initially happy to see us. We were just kids after all, but I managed to convince him he'd be making a mistake turning us away, and got him to let us join them. The only condition was that Wren and I stick together." the rogue took a sip of her water as she finished her story.

"So, then, what happened to him?"

"He retired." Sylleda shrugged. "Sort of. I got us both thrown in the Stockades about six years ago. Shaw let me out but Wren's still there." the rogue stared into her empty flagon.

The truth was, whether or not  _ he  _ would admit it, Shaw had come for Wren. He was the better rogue. Less chaotic, more reliable. But Sylleda speculated that Wren had refused to leave, arguing something stupid about how he'd rather spend the rest of his days behind bars in Sylleda's place than watch her rot there another day. Despite her attempted protests, Shaw had let her out and shipped her off to Dalaran.

It was hard to believe that was six months ago now.

She breathed a sigh and set down her flagon, trying desperately to quell the guilt bubbling up in her stomach.  _ She was going to get him out of there, somehow. _

"So, then-" a soft snore cut the rogue off. "Impressive. I did manage to bore you to sleep." she muttered, getting up from her seat and marching over to one of the beds and tucking herself in. She could only hope for a peaceful sleep and a letter back from Wren sooner, rather than later.


End file.
